Chapter Text
Creation, when unintended, can be a thistle in one’s heel. Just as the war for Cybertron was first conceived, so too was a sparkling amidst highly tense times; born in the silence that a politically charged atmosphere forms, the decision to remove the carrier from the light entirely. She succumbed to the pressure placed, and the accidental gestation was done away with, ending just before the war’s dawn. The sire was never informed. What was unknown to all but the originator, was that the carrier herself bore it, alone, and sent away the newforge in a stasis pod to be raised far from war. This pod landed on earth.
Starscream hovered a little too closely behind Soundwave, red eyes darting left and right at the data displayed on the Communication Officer’s monitors just waiting for anything new or out of line to ping so that he could be the first one to report it to Lord Megatron. All seemed normal, energy signatures of fleets giving off their locations, known Energon mines and possible future targets.
The seeker exvented against the back of Soundwave’s neck in sheer boredom until an alert from a drone patrol sounded in the corner of Soundwave’s monitor. Starscream nearly jumped to swipe the mouse from Soundwave’s servo. Instead, he extended his long arm past Soundwave’s helm and shoulder mounted cannon, pressing his digit on the screen, smudging it somehow.
“You should open that.”
“Starscream: Actions unnecessary.” Soundwave huffed with a glare. [Captain obvious] he mumbled, only for Laserbeak to hear. The beast cassette rattled with a little snicker. He pushed the seeker’s hand away, and mentally he made a note to have the monitor cleaned again.
Starscream stepped back with ruffled wings and brushed his servo free from any imaginary germs he may have received from Soundwave touching him. Acting as if he were the one who had his personal space impeded.
Soundwave opened the associated information with the notification; coordinates, reading, and the drone’s discovery notes. He read them silently:
[Medium crater, Cybertronian origin, fluctuating vitals signal]
He hummed to himself, peering over at Starscream. Like a race, he quickly alerted Megatron over his comm link, hoping he’d be heard first, because he was the better officer between them, clearly.
“Well? What is it?” the Air Commander demanded impatiently. “You know it is within my right to know whatever abnormalities the vehicons report and be reported to first. Not you.”
He ignored him, at least for a moment. When he spoke again it was to Megatron. “Orders: Understood.” He typed in a directive and sent it out, stepping away from the monitor. He turned to Starscream now, fully. “Abnormality: Contains life signal. May be a launched pod. Megatron has directed an immediate recovery mission before Autobots can retrieve it. Starscream: Has the right to accompany acquisition team,” he relayed.
The seeker invented, open mouthed, and outstretched his digit, about to give a rant about ranks, respect, and whatnot but his optics got caught on Laserbeaks and no sound came out of his vocalizer. He accepted as his digit wilted before turning his heel and heading for the doorway
“The right- I’ll show you who has the right…” he grumbled under his breath while on his way to do absolutely nothing about the situation.
Soundwave returned to his work without too much thought about the situation. Elsewhere, Megatron watched drones fly and file out to the elevator, getting carted off to the top and disappearing from his sight gradually. He watched from his window perch, hoping idly that this was a weapon that could turn the war, or at the very least vanquish some enemies. He comm’d Starscream, having not seen him yet.
“My newest prize. Have you left to fetch it yet, or not?” He growled into his communicator, still staring off into the deep and briny blue.
Starscream stopped in his tracks and sniveled with a shudder at the sound of Megatron’s voice before opening his comm link and replying.
“I’m already on my way my liege!” he lied, powerwalking to the elevator and hoping that Megatron didn’t catch him on his way up. “You know I’m always the first to take the lead in delivering what is rightfully yours!” he yelled out with false confidence while rolling his eyes and mocking him with a squawking gesture of his servo.
Megatron chuckled, always taking a little pleasure in spooking his second in command.
Drones flew, drove, and ran to the center point of the ping. It was a quaint beach spot that would otherwise be only notable for being an easy place to nap. The first drone to have spot it, DR8K, stood around idly, hoping that his tip off would secure him some sort of bonus, if they ever got paid. Starscream said any day now! When the war ends. In the distance he saw dust kicking up, oncoming headlights beaming. He ducked.
Knocking sand in every which way, the Autobots made their arrival. Bulkhead had the lead, the tread of his tires giving him great advantage on the terrain. He slowed to a stop and transformed, eyeing the scene, hoping his compatriots weren’t too far behind.
Bumblebee are Arcee zipped past Bulkhead on either side of the target of interest for the advantage of stealth as more vehicons arrived to secure the package, leaving Optimus just behind Bulkhead, given his size as the biggest indicator of their position.
The sky rained shots from the seekers, and bots scattered to avoid being hit, but Bulkhead and Bumblebee couldn’t find enough cover, getting temporarily set back by the impacts. It was head to head, with the Autobots closing it to surround the target.
Once she reached a vantage point upon a sand dune, Arcee opened her comm with the other Autobots. “It looks like the ‘cons also got the memo for this mysterious package. Though I don’t see a commander with them. Starscream must be late to the party.”
And late he was. Starscream was scuttling behind the last few aerial vehicons, trying to surpass him. From his view, he can see Optimus due to his large size. The seeker muttered a curse under his breath and commanded his fleet to dive head on towards the target.
Distantly, Soundwave watched the activity from a vehicon bodycam, turning to discreetly look at his Lord in the corner of his visor. They weren’t exactly ahead, and he wouldn’t be happy with the outcome if Starscream brought home yet another failure. Soundwave wasn’t too worried; Starscream could hold his own with their leaders' punishments- and if he didn’t, Soundwave would just get a promotion. Laserbeak rattled again, this time in a request for takeoff.
“Laserbeak: Eject,” he stated flatly, watching the bird lunge out and unfold, condor wings spreading and taking flight. It was wonderful, but usual, and usual things are overlooked. Megatron stared only ahead.
Just as most of the vehicons had landed, Arcee transformed into her root mode and began taking shots at the rear of the posse, occupying some of the drones.
Starscream transformed and landed on his feet in front of the strangely small package, aiming his blaster at the Prime who was barreling towards him on all four cylinders before transforming into a charge towards the seeker.
“Not another step, Prime!” he hissed.
“Took ya long enough...” Thundercracker growled from behind a small dune to Starscream’s left.
Starscream kicked some sand into his face.
Optimus came to a halt and signaled for his Autobots to stand down for an attempt at negotiation at the small blinking, living cocoon. To Optimus it practically called out to him to save. “Starscream, be reasonable. We both know that the true contents of this container is unknown. It could be dangerous if put into the wrong hands..” he lowered his weapon to try and get through to the usually psychotic jet. It rarely worked, but one in a million is still one.
The seeker paused and signaled his mechs to stop firing. Of course he wasn’t actually considering Optimus’ words, he was simply taking his sweet time to consider how to deliver the most brutal blow to the Prime standing in front of him and get away with it.
Overhead, two engines sounded, one greater than the other. The larger was a formidable jet, circling like a vulture. The other was a vulture. The smaller swooped down, scanning and taking pictures, whirling around Optimus’ helm. Laserbeak squaked and cawed at the Prime, taking a few swipes before he could regain composure enough to fight her off. The jet overhead transformed high in the air, seemingly pointlessly until, in a flash, he had traveled down and snatched the pod from between both befuddled parties, disappearing once more in a purple flash vortex. Soon after, Laserbeak seemed to have her mission complete, and flew away once more to return to her carrier and home.
“No!” Optimus shouted, reaching for the empty space that the lifebearing pod used to occupy, falling to his knees. His shoulders slumped in defeat as he stared past Starscream.
Bulkhead watched the sky for a moment, tilting his helm. More attentively, Arcee returned to Optimus’ side, unsure of their next move.
The Air Commander however, stared wide eyed, taking a few klicks to process what just happened. He blinked a few times before realization hit. His wings twitched until he broke into a rotten sneer that mocked Optimus’ low. “HAH-! I suppose you were too slow with this one, Autothots!” he broke into a cruel cackle and poked the Prime’s crest with a sharp digit, relishing in his victory. “Decepticons, time to go home!”
So with that, Starscream transformed and made a beeline back to the nemesis, followed by the vehicons.
After watching Optimus remain on the ground, muttering to himself, Bulkhead and Bumblebee took it upon themselves to pull their leader back to his feet and drag him away from the battlefield while Arcee called upon Ratchet to create a groundbridge back to their base.
The bridge opened, a per-usual concerned medic waiting on the other end. Arcee’s call sounded… more worrisome than usual, especially from her. He took it with a grain of salt that maybe Optimus was just feeling particularly disappointed in himself this time, as if he could save the whole world every day and was just missing it. He exvented and waited, dutifully manning the bridge.
Elsewhere, back on the Nemesis, Megatron stalked to the main hall, having gotten the tip-off from Soundwave (via Laserbeak) that this was most certainly a pod- perhaps a Decepticon escapee warrior who narrowly managed an enemy pod to use, a wounded soldier sent to be healed off planet if ever found, a prisoner ejected from an imploding ship. The ideas were fanciful, sure, but he liked to entertain things that inspired him, like the new ways he could spin this discovery. Best of all, it could be an amnesiac- then he could pick whatever story was his favorite to give him. Perhaps if he was stupid, Knockout could just give him steroids, or something. He just assumed the doctor had that. What was certain was that he had a leg up on silly stupid Optimus. He continued down the hall, distracted, until his victorious forces began to return.
Starscream sauntered into the room with a deep sense of pride worn on his chest. His optics were closed to convey how cool he was and just how effortless this victory was that was totally single-handedly won by him. He stopped when he was at the center of the room and paused, waiting for any sort of praise. Thundercracker walked in behind him at a normal pace, rubbing a blast mark that stained his aft and looking around with confusion directed at Starscream.
Skywarp was, of course, already there and rolled his optics at the display, making a rather crude hand gesture at his trine leader before Starscream opened his optics and furiously whipped his helm around at the lack of applause. “Where is that-”, the second in command immediately straightened up and grinned as Megatron stepped into the room. “Lord Megatron!” he beamed, bowing so low that his nose nearly touched the ground. He loudly cleared his vocalizer and shoved Thundercracker into a bow, but not as low as him.
The seeker shot back up and yanked his blue trinemate back up with him, earning a few painful clicks from his struts and a groan accompanying it. “Silence you fool-”, Starscream muttered before brightening up and fluttering up to the warlord. “I assume you are pleased with the outcome of my excursion, yes? Nothing but the best performance from me, my liege.”
“Spare me the preening, Starscream,” he rolled his optics. He wasn’t going to give his second praise for something he didn’t even do. Laserbeak had it recorded, after all. Though, he wasn’t going to be singing high praises for anyone else either. “Good work, Skywarp,” he noted flatly, before sparing a look at his Air Commander. “Maybe if you fly a little faster, you’ll get it next time,” he laughed poking fun at Starscream. His humor didn’t last too long, as he had more on his mind. “The pod.”
A vehicon stepped forward, holding one top half of the pod, a seeker drone holding the foot of it. “Here, my lord,” one said indiscriminately. Megatron stepped forward with thudding clacks.
“At last, another Decepticon may join the ranks!” He said, drawing a little cheer from nervous troops. “Or, another enemy shall be vanquished…” he added, chuckling. He cleared his vocalizer, ending it with a growl. “Open it.”
Another vehicon stepped forward and clicked open the pod, sending vapor to spill out over the sides as he carefully removed the lid.
Starscream was quick to rush over, still trying to interject himself as an important figure in this moment. He grunted and made his weird little whiny Starscream noises as he tried to stretch himself and even hop a few times to get a view of the contents inside, but Megatron’s large frame and bulky armor made it nearly impossible to do so.
After the smoke cleared, inside was the tiniest grey figure; a protoform waking up from what seemed to be an induced stasis lasting for a millenia or two. The little thing yawned and stretched its limbs before turning away from the light and returning to peacefully sleeping. Its body was wrapped in the luxurious cloth of old Cybertron’s elites, textiles reminiscent of Iaconic culture; specifically of the old politicians that used to rule the planet before the war between Autobots and Decepticons. To rub it into Megatron’s face even more, the cloth was held together with a pinned button with the seal of the very government the gladiator was oppressed under and subsequently worked so hard to tear down with his bare servos.
“Will you get out of the way you flat-headed brute!?” Starscream hissed while shoving his leader aside. He huffed before peering down to catch a glimpse of the treasure himself. “Oh my-”, he reeled back with wide eyes and glanced up at the gunmetal mech in fear of how this discovery would alter his current mood.
Megatron was unnervingly quiet. He raised a servo, a crutch to speak. After a while he broke the silence. “How… surprising. A sparkling, in stasis for this long… a relic of the Old World. Perhaps we should put it back into stasis. Or get rid of it. It’s of an extinct species, now,” he considered.
He watched the sparkling with unwavering coldness. He had no hopes or pleasure looking at it. This wasn’t a future soldier. This was a spoiled infant. “Starscream, Soundwave,” he commanded, drawing in their attention. “Attend to the newest acquisition,” he decided, giving no further notes or explanation. He seemed unsure of what he wanted them to do with it, unnerved by its very existence. It contradicted everything he had worked for. “Find some use for it. Maybe Shockwave needs a so-called ‘guinea pig’.”
Starscream shuddered from the thought of what Shockwave could possibly do with a newforged, but also at the thought of handling such a thing. He stepped back and cleared his vocalizer, straightening up.
“Soundwave-“, he began. “As your superior, I am appointing you to deal with this mess. I have far more important responsibilities and you obviously have more experience wrangling younglings and our head scientist. You have the end of the week to have this assignment dealt with.”
As soon as Megatron’s back was turned, a smirk grew on the Seeker’s face plate, as if he felt like he was getting back at the communications officer for giving him some lip earlier. “I’ll leave you to it,” he snapped his digits, giving the cue for his trinemates to perk up and follow him out of the room.
Soundwave sighed, turning to look at the sleeping sparkling. The seekers and drones started to file out, the two who carried the pod waited for further instruction. He looked over to them. “Pod: To be left in my quarters.” He watched their somewhat confused faces, but they didn’t dare question or disobey. Being weirded out was for breaks and mealtime, where they could chatter and rag on their superiors and their decision making.
Soundwave would attend to it later. In the case of it waking up, he sent Ravage. Messaging her, she responded with great curiosity, dropping her work snooping hallways in favor of sniffing and watching something brand new. She liked newforges, truly, and when she arrived the first thing she did (besides securing the room) was to lean in and do her best to replace whatever stink this baby had with her own. It smelled like stasis vapor, Old Cybertron, and sickly expensive perfumes. Her own grease smell was far superior, she decided. Soon it would smell unrecognizable to its carrier, and would warn any other beast or beast-like Decepticon that it wasn’t a stray (or food).
Meanwhile, Shockwave tapped his pede impatiently as he sat at his desk, lulling through today’s data on one of his computer monitors, meticulously eyeing the little embryonic forms as they wiggled and squirmed in the small test tubes that stood up beside him. Each tube no bigger than the typical desktop nick knack.
It’s not every day that a mysterious package had been delivered to the Decepticon’s doorstep, and it was usually never for the Decepticon scientist. Something new he could start, spearhead, and feel the satisfaction of completing. Life had been agonizingly slow ever since Megatron had called for his attendance on this miserable planet. To have him drop all of his projects and personal duties on Cybertron and start a completely new one and an excruciatingly slow one, cloning, was just blasphemy.
Of course he never had been physically in attendance to see what the package could contain himself, he relented that it would be a waste of time given the contents may not be for him anyway, but he was desperately opening and closing his messages tab, considering rewiring the Nemesis' entire network connection system. That was surely the reason why he wasn’t getting anything.
Soundwave returned to his quarters, eventually, and decided to make some calls about his new charge (it was his now, in Starscream’s words). First he sent an order to their resident medical officer:
[Knockout: Medical exam requested. Patient:…]
He pondered what to call this thing. A hostage? A weapon?
[Patient: Acquired lifeform.]
Then came the scientist’s message.
[Shockwave: Analysis needed. Purpose: Information required.]
Shockwave looked up as if he was receiving a message from Primus. It wasn’t favorable that Soundwave wasn’t bringing whatever he needed to his lab, but his intellect was needed regardless and he was eager to deliver. Soundwave was a good listener anyway, he enjoyed his company when those insufferable cassettes weren’t around.
The large mech shoved whatever tools he may need into a handheld carrier. The scientist tended to overpack and over prepare but this method has never failed him yet. Before stepping out of his laboratory he looked back at the small forms of life floating in their respective tubes on his desk. He gazed at them with a sense of wonder for a moment or two before unceremoniously throwing a rag over them, snuffing them out in the dark and hiding them away so no unsuspecting mech could see them if they dared pry into his lab.
He closed the door behind him and walked towards Soundwave’s quarters until he stopped, watching Knockout join him in the hall, followed by Breakdown carting a large trunk full of the Medic’s supplies. Shockwave’s optic dimmed and his shoulders lowered, remembering that it wasn’t just him called to this assignment and that he’d have to share a speaking platform with the red sports car.
Soundwave waited, and when he heard the presence of his house call before they arrived, he unlocked his quarters and directed Laserbeak and Ravage to sit and wait during the visit. The medic entered first, then his assistant. The doctor set down his things before turning and looking at Soundwave. He clapped his servos together.
“Soundwave,” he greeted. “What’s this ‘acquired lifeform’ business about? Is it human? I don’t prefer to dissect fleshy things, mind you.” He moved to and fro, setting up for a base exam. “Where is it, anyway?”
Soundwave turned and picked up the pod, setting it on his apartment's center table. He watched optics turn bright and alarmed by the contents, and Knockout almost took a step back when Soundwave even removed it from its… casing. It was small and absolutely new; it didn’t have identifying features or much color, dull and almost lifeless, if one didn’t see it breathing.
“Oh. That… that’s a sparkling,” he said with a forced laugh. He turned to look at Breakdown, hoping to gauge his partner’s response.
Breakdown set his servos on the table and crouched, peering at the sparkling as his face drew closer to get a better look. His golden optics filled with wonder and affection for the little thing.
“Is that-“, he extended one of his large digits towards the thing, not intending to touch it, but if the sparkling wanted to touch him, he wouldn’t mind. “What the seekers retrieved today..?” he finished in a hushed tone so as to not wake the drowsy little thing.
Shockwave walked in unannounced, making the room seem cramped now with his large frame. He looked at the mechs in front of him, glossing over anything small and insignificant like cassettes and the new arrival. Wordlessly, he shoved away some of Knockout’s things with his cannon to make room to loudly set down his container in the empty space.
Knockout scoffed, gesturing at the act. “Those are my tools,” he clarified as if the mech wasn’t doing it on purpose. “I am the medical officer on this ship and am doing an examination here, thank you.” His comment was snide, and he turned back to face the sparkling and Breakdown. “Careful there, it may bite.”
Soundwave offered his assurances. “Sparkling: Not old enough to do so.”
Knockout crept closer, taking his bag with him. The medic was thankful it was still asleep, clearly exhausted from its crash, and not fussing about strangers touching it. He checked its vital signs, sparkrate exceedingly high for any full sized frame, but from what he remembered from his textbook training, normal for a newforge. With their need to grow and develop, they had faster metabolisms and simply worked faster, much like minibots or the cassettes, but more extreme. He checked its temperature, and wrote down its size and estimated age. He sat up and looked around at the grown mechs in the room, giving his best analysis.
“Sparkrate is normal. Its body seems intact, if space-lagged. It may purge its systems a few times when it’s awake and eating- that’s normal, just keep it fed. I would say it’s only a few deca-cycles old. Should be holding itself up and crawling in a few more. Surprising that its parents chose to part so soon,” he explained about the child.
Breakdown ever so gently caressed its helm, the way a human would with the petals of a delicate flower.
Shockwave loomed behind the two, his lone optic fixated on the little being, gears turning as he thought about what to make of this situation and why in the world it would concern him. If anything, this was a total let down. He knew that Soundwave was the last person to subscribe an “innocent” and “helpless” being to be donated in the pursuit of his scientific endeavor so why was he called upon? He tried to rationalize this a bit further before giving up and staring at the communications officer, expecting a prompt answer that made this trek worthwhile.
He looked away to the other two first. “Knockout, Breakdown: Greatly appreciated. Exam: Successful. You are dismissed,” he said, relieved but aware. He let them pack and file out, waiting until they had left to return to his other guest.
“Shockwave: Sparkling is of unconfirmed origin. Age is known, point and time of creation is not. Objective: Determine true origin, and if it has any unobserved value or purpose. Warning: Do not damage,” he added after. “Soundwave: Compliant aid, but busy mech,” he reminded, before turning and looking at the sparkling on the table. It drooled frequently, so he dried it with a far-too-rough cleaning rag, all he had in his subspace currently.
“I don’t-” he paused, looking into Soundwave’s visor. He knew far too well that the mech wouldn’t give him a menial task, he was far beyond assigning busy work. That was for lower beings like cassettes and vehicons. He silenced his protest and turned towards the table, examining its loose garb, running his digit over the textile and its intricate weaving patterns and colors, something that no Decepticon has seen in many, many years; though, there was absolutely no signs of tarnish, no wear, no rubble. It was as pristine as the being that the fabric cloaked. He then examined the pin securing the garb together, carefully unfastening it so he could remove it from the fabric and take a closer look. It too was also unchanged, the scientist stared at the government seal long and hard for a few klicks. He idly turned it over and what he saw made his optic brighten up and allow the metal button to drop on the floor, causing a tinny clang against the metal floor. His gaze unwavered from his empty hand.
Buzzsaw couldn’t help himself and his love for all things shiny. The condor hopped over on the ground and allowed himself to give his own examination before grabbing it with his beak and fluttering up and perching on Shockwave’s shoulder to give it back to him.
Soundwave flicked attention to Buzzsaw, content to see the bird enjoying himself and playing nicely. He noted of its discovery absently. “Sparkling: Received from escape pod. Possibly pre-war?” he offered the idea. He lifted the child up, and examined it slowly himself. He noticed it smelled like Ravage’s warm natural oil, and laughed internally at her desire to claim things as her own. He did lament, a little bit, that its own previously rubbed off smell could have aided in knowing its origin, but perhaps Shockwave didn’t know that, and he didn’t wanna add more negatives. It started to wake up, and he rubbed its chest and back to stimulate deep breathing and possibly urge on any immediate purging while he was still present. He looked at Shockwave to see if he too saw the sparkling moving but noticed instead that Shockwave seemed intently focused on his own discovery. “Shockwave: Alright?”
The tank snapped back into reality. “Pre-war, yes. These artifacts are in pristine condition dating back to a time before the Decepticon faction’s very existence. Paired with the remnants of stale stasis vapor, this organism is dated just before the war. It’s likely that its creation dates to around the same time of your eldest symbiote”. He glanced at Ravage and then back at the sparkling, processing their similarities in relevant age but obvious difference in biological development.
He took the badge from Buzzsaw and tapped his beak twice as a thank you and a cue for the cassette to retreat back to where he was before placing it down, face side up, concealing whatever he saw on the fastener side.
A moment passed and Shockwave lifted his servo to relay his physical message again, in case he didn’t get in the first time but the condor awkwardly side-stepped-bird-shuffled away before fluttering off to rest on Soundwave’s berth.
[Treat.] was his lone message, and complaint, to the members of his bond between the rest of the cassettes and his creator.
Shockwave relished in Buzz’s disgruntlement for a nano second before thinking what his next move may be.
Soundwave turned and, after considering it, pulled out a small energon reward from his subspace and offered it to the bird, patting him afterward a few times, Buzzsaw rubbing his helm into the affection. “Pre-Decepticon?” he thought, surprised. “Sparkling: Was on ice for quite a long time,” he said, feeling relaxed enough for colloquialism.
Ravage spoke for her part, out loud in this instance as she watched them. “A very old sparkling.”
“Newforge: As old as Ravage,” Soundwave regurgitated the information toward her. She made a sneer.
[Ravage is much older] she spoke, directly with Soundwave this time, using the third person snippily. He only pet her head.
“Shockwave: Any other observations?” he questioned, looking down off and on to see the child move and grumble. It opened one, then another optic. It had crystal blue optics, unusual now among Decepticons but one of many typical shades back on their home planet. “Carrier: May have had blue optics,” he noted, like it could possibly narrow anything down. “Or carried dormant cybergenetics suited to it. Originator: Possibly Autobot now,” he hummed.
[Probably dead, by now] Ravage added unhelpfully, and got a look from her creator. She shrugged.
“A CNA test is surely in order. A possible match may be found within the limited data I have gathered from everyone on the nemesis over time since my arrival. Though, my more extensive collection of samples ranging from Decepticons and Autobots is back in my proper laboratory on Cybertron.”
“If it isn’t destroyed by the… rebels that remain on the planet,” he muttered, an indirect jab at his orders to leave his original quarters behind.
Shockwave turned and unclicked the latches of his container. It was a caboodle, really; but from there he pulled out a vial and a few cotton swabs. He also retrieved a pair of intimidating looking forceps, but one glance back at Soundwave made him decide against it and put the tool back. He laid his items out on the table beside the pod and readied the vial and the swab. Using his cannon as a makeshift tray, for his materials, he leaned down towards the sparkling in the communication officer’s hands. The brightness of his optic illuminated its little face as it stared into its blue optics. The little thing’s face was visible in the reflection of his huge lens.
The scientist paused and ghosted his hand over it’s tiny intake, practicing motions on how exactly he was going to pry its mouth open and take a sample of its spit without damaging the sparkling. As a matter of fact, his hand could absolutely engulf the little thing, but despite that, Shockwave was too bewildered to actually touch it. Finally, he gave up and glanced up at Soundwave, almost pitifully.
“Can you- …assist- in the process? Its mouth needs to be open in order to retrieve a coolant sample and by your orders I must refrain from damaging the creature.”
Silently, Soundwave complied. He sat the sparkling upright and facing out on his lap, and put two digits on either side of its mouth, putting pressure lightly until it opened up its mouth, cheeks squished inward. He kept it agape for Shockwave to take his sample, the brightness of his optic making the newforge squint and shield itself from the light. Soundwave shushed the small form, mumbling low things and making whirring and clicking sounds that distracted the child greatly, akin to the inner sounds of a bot’s body it may have heard in its creation. It was fascinated by experiencing just about anything in the moment, but Soundwave knew that wouldn’t last forever. “Sparkling: Distracted- take samples,” he directed. He appreciated the adherence to his orders, but stopped to think about verbiage. Creature? Was this a ‘creature’? “It probably had a name before,” he mentioned when he considered it.
He quickly swirled the swab around the Sparkling’s mouth and deposited the stick into its corresponding vial and stood up straight, giving Soundwave the cue that he could release the baby.
“Its designation is irrelevant now, due to its creators possibly being offline or worse, Autobots.” Shockwave stored the vial into his caboodle and packed it up. “Assigning a serial number may be most efficient in categorizing it with the rest of the ship’s cargo”, he spoke while readying himself to leave.
“I will extract a strand of its CNA and compare it to the samples I have and their recorded genealogical ancestors. The process will take approximately three joors and two breems. Please arrive at my lab accordingly for the results and possible further planning lest I need to expand my data. Do you have anything further to discuss before I take my leave?”
Soundwave nodded, listening. “No,” he decided. “I’ll move my schedule.”
He opened the door for Shockwave, allowing him time to pack anything else and make his exit. He pulled the sparkling back close to him, turning away to make some calls. He seemed to be talking to some lower officers, moving plans and ordering things. Elsewhere, vehicons received the directive to contact the Constructicons to create an efficiently sized berth for something small, with walls to keep it from rolling away. He frequently rested with his cassettes on him or docked, but this newforge couldn’t transform, let alone into a compatible shape with his chest. He hung up his call and turned to catch Shockwave before he left completely.
“Shockwave: Should look into any default frame the sparkling may have.” He asked, in not so many words, what this thing might look like as it sheds its first mesh, if it might have a seeker or warframe, or perhaps something symbiote-like. “It may be a clue,” he added as an excuse to be curious. The newforge shook, then started to gurgle and expel undigested but very old energon. It was rather disgusting, so Soundwave simply placed it hovering over a wastebin until it was done, then wiped it again with the cleaning rag.
Shockwave’s audials twitched in annoyance at the behavior of the sparkling while he stared at it.
“Unfortunately, Cybertronian biology has seemed to counteract the magnificence of scientific advancements and knowledge. I won’t be able to determine what exactly its frame will be until it sheds its disgusting first film. But-” He glanced at Soundwave. “I will try, If I can find a CNA match in order to make an educated guess. For the sake of the assignment and to satisfy your curiosity.” The scientist turned away and made the trip back to his lab to start up his new project.
“Appreciated,” he said with a small nod. He sat down on his couch with the sparkling, sending Ravage and the birds to prowl the halls and keep track of his orders and their completion.
Walking, Megatron caught Shockwave’s optic on his way. Briefly stopping, he had a quick word with the scientist. “Shockwave,” he said with faux warmth as per usual. “Keep me informed on this new discovery, and how it may best support our cause. I trust you won’t get too attached,” he hummed, beginning to walk away as soon as he got his thoughts in.
“Yes, Lord Megatron.” The scientist murmured, also walking away the second he finished his reply.